


Dedication

by shy__violet



Series: 2020 Holiday Prompts [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Hanukkah, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shy__violet/pseuds/shy__violet
Summary: Written for tumblr user @shyest-violet's holiday arcana prompt:LightsCh 1: Julian and Iris have a private celebration at home.Ch 2: Party at Portia's!
Relationships: Julian Devorak/Original Female Character(s)
Series: 2020 Holiday Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043619
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Dedication

**Author's Note:**

> I am neither Jewish nor familiar with Jewish culture; as such, I've done my best to approach representing a Hanukkah-like celebration in a fictional world from the perspective of an in-game outsider to that culture. I welcome comments and advice on these topics, so feel free to reach out.

The sun had just begun to slink behind the roofs of the buildings across from ours, and I stood in front of the balcony doors to watch the sky shift from orange, to pink-lavender, to indigo. I hugged my shawl tighter around me against the room’s chill—Vesuvia was in the midst of a cold snap that had been threatening snow for the last day or two—and regretted forgoing socks or slippers or something when I’d closed shop and come upstairs for the night. It’d be fine, though; Julian would be home soon, and we’d curl up by the fire, maybe under the big blanket with some mulled wine or…

“Oh for the love of—why would you even be  _ there _ ! That’s where the door opens and you know it, no, stop  _ hissing  _ it’s fine, you’re fine, I’m sorry!”

Broken away from my thoughts by Julian’s arrival home, and Hieronymous’ demonic hissing as Julian once again disturbed his new nesting spot behind the door, I laughed and went to console man and beast. 

“Look, you stupid swan, just let me move your damn nest over—“ Julian stopped mid-sentence and mid-reach, his hand extended to shift the bundle of fabric scraps that was Hie’s nest, when the bird let out another hellish hiss then snapped at Julian’s fingers; he promptly snatched his hand back. 

“ _ Hieronymous, knock it  _ **_off_ ** ,” I said as I came around the corner. I gave him a pat on the head. “I’m sorry you got knocked into, but you do know that’s where the door opens, so either be nice to Julian or move your nest. As for you,” I wrapped my arms around Julian’s waist in a hug. “Welcome home, close the door, and don’t call my familiar stupid.”

“Your wish is my command, beloved!” He bent down, his cold nose brushing over my cheek as he kissed me, and I heard him kick the door shut behind him. 

I hummed into the kiss, content, giving a gentle bite to his lower lip when I pulled away. “You’re late...almost didn’t make it in time. I set out everything for you in the other room.”

“I know,” he said with a small chuckle. “I had to run through half of Goldgrave and the entirety of the Heart District to make it.” I felt his fingers lace with mine. He untangled me from his waist and led me into the other room. 

The candles, only two tonight, Julian had instructed, were laid out where I’d left them on a small table near the balcony’s glass doors, so they could be seen from the street when lit, along with their nine-stemmed holder and matches. With gentle fingers, Julian set the the candles in the holder: one in the center stem and the other on the far right. 

He’d told me about this celebration from his homeland, the Festival of Lights, and how he and Portia would light the candles each night at sunset, the foods Mazelinka and her wife would prepare, the songs and stories they’d share, and the games they’d play. We had plans to visit Portia and her wife, Etoile, later in the week for a celebratory dinner, and Maz was coming, too. But tonight, it was just him and me and the candles. 

Julian sang while he placed the candles, his voice bright and clear, rising and falling like a flickering flame. The words weren’t in a language I knew, but they sounded beautiful in Julian’s rich voice, all melismatic vowels and throaty consonants. 

When he’d finished singing his benedictions, I watched as he struck a match, its fizzing hiss loud in the quiet room, and touched the flame to the wick of the first candle. As the flame caught, it illuminated Julian’s fingers with warm, flickering licks, catching bright on the high points of his knuckles. The light winked off the glass of the door when Julian gingerly lifted the candle from its holder and used it to light the other; he set the first candle back in its place and took a step back to wrap his long arm around my shoulders. 

“They’re lovely,” I murmured quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful silence of the room and steal away the dreamy look in Julian’s eye. He made a small humming sound by way of agreement and kissed the top of my head.

After a while, I rocked against him, nudging him with my shoulder. “Hungry? I made that brisket you like, the one with the wine and herbs.” I looked up at him, watching a grin unfurl, brilliant and dazzling, over his face.

“Darling, that sounds  _ wonderful. _ ”


End file.
